Forks in the Road
by NerdoOfTheFiction
Summary: Yamamoto and Gokudera are sent on a mission to a warehouse together and have to overcome some dangerous challenges. No intentional 8059, just friendship since theres not many fics for these two. Rated T for occasional cussing from Gokudera and violence.


When Tsuna had said the word "warehouse", Yamamoto Takeshi knew he was in for a thriller of a mission.

Gokudera had smirked when Tsuna told them of the mission. He liked the excitement in going blindly into a large warehouse filled with crates and men with guns willing to risk anything to protect whatever was inside those crates. Yamamoto, on the other hand, feared it. He would never tell anyone that, though, because he didn't want to seem weak. He didn't want Gokudera to call him names even more than he already did.

Tsuna paired them up and received a grunt from Gokudera and a smile from Yamamoto. Going with Gokudera gave the older boy a sense of security. He knew no matter what happened, and no matter how much the bomber tried to convince others he hated the baseball nut, Gokudera would never let Yamamoto get killed and always had his back. Another comforting factor was that Gokudera was excellent in what he does—fighting.

The pair had to find out what was in the crates because there was suspicions of it either being weapons or drugs. 'Suspicions' didn't sit well with Yamamoto. What if it ended up being something harmless and men got killed because of silly 'suspicions'? Gokudera apparently didn't care because he was already agreeing to kill anyone who got in their way or attacked them.

Tsuna warned them that the warehouse was likely to be swarming with guards and offered back-up. But naturally, Gokudera refused and said they'd be fine. _Speak for yourself_, Yamamoto thought lamely.

Tsuna had nodded and wished them good luck, told them to be careful, and to call if there was anything they couldn't handle. Gokudera agreed but Yamamoto knew he would be too stubborn to actually admit he needs help and would end up getting hurt. This is where Yamamoto came in. When Gokudera did his stupid stunts, Yamamoto would be there to make sure he didn't get himself killed. _Yamamoto _wasn't afraid to call for help.

Now the two were outside the specified warehouse with their car parked eight blocks down the road. Gokudera pressed himself up against the exterior wall just next to the door. Gokudera had said he'd go in first. This seemed logical to Yamamoto because his dynamite had a better chance against long range guns than his sword did. Of course, if there happened to be a guard right inside the door, Gokudera would be in trouble and Yamamoto would hope he could get there to protect his friend in time.

Gokudera stole a glace from Yamamoto and their eyes locked. Both told each other with their eyes to be careful. The silver haired teen turned away and placed his hand on the door knob, took a breath, and threw it open.

Everything seemed quiet enough. Gokudera disappeared into the doorway and Yamamoto followed as quickly as he could so he wouldn't lose sight of him. Gokudera was holding a single stick of dynamite in one hand, probably for protection. His light eyes were scrutinizing every visible crate and corner; Yamamoto looked up and even down.

Gokudera motioned the black haired boy to follow him and Yamamoto had no intention of doing anything else. A gunshot rand out and hit a crate near Yamamoto. He flinched and drew his sword. Gokudera launched a bomb in the direction of the shot, but there was no yelling, no return fire, and no sound at all.

Yamamoto swallowed hard. _Wonderful. A warehouse full of snipers._

Gokudera's hand was on the gun tucked in his belt now. Dynamite was useful, but not for quick attacks. That shot was poorly taken and Yamamoto was lucky it missed him. But Gokudera was sure that next time the nut wouldn't be so lucky.

Another shot rang out, this time for Gokudera. It barely missed his head and the bullet made his hair sway. The bomber's eyes went wide at the near miss and Yamamoto was scared to death. He moved closer to Gokudera to be sure he was unscathed. "Should we call Tsuna?"

"No," Gokudera's whisper was adamant, "As soon as we locate this sniper, we'll be fine."

"We could get killed,"

Gokudera shook his head and put his finger up to his lips to silence him. Yamamoto felt his eyebrows furrow and he bit his lip looking in the directions the shots came from. Another shot came and Gokudera took off in the exact direction. Yamamoto stood stunned for a moment before it hit him to run after his reckless friend. He called as loud as he could without going above a whisper, "Gokudera, stop!"

But he knew his friend couldn't hear him. Fortunately for Yamamoto, baseball gave him one up on Gokudera and smoking gave Gokudera a disadvantage. The swordsman was along side him in a moment, tugging at his sleeve. Gokudera threw him off and kept running. He slid to a stop.

Yamamoto, unprepared for the sudden stop, ran another couple feet. He glanced back at Gokudera and followed his eyes. Three guards were positioned in front of them, guns pointed. A chill ran up Yamamoto's spine. Cornered.

"Yamamoto, move!"

Yamamoto instinctively ran as he was told, just in time to miss the explosion of Gokudera's bombs. Two of the men came running through the smoke, the other decidedly hit. One ran for Gokudera and one for Yamamoto. Gokudera whipped his gun out and began firing rapidly. Yamamoto used his techniques developed from Reborn and blocked each shot his opponent fired at him. From the corner of his eye, he watched Gokudera's challenger fall and Gokudera turn his gun towards Yamamoto's own challenger and fire.

The man in front of him fell at once, blood splattering out at Yamamoto's suit from the man's chest. Disgusted, Yamamoto took a few steps back and looks at Gokudera. "You're not hurt are you?"

Yamamoto watched Gokudera's silver hair sway as he shook his head. Yamamoto felt a little better; but he knew it wasn't even close to the end of their troubles. Any minute now, he was sure more guards would show up after hearing all the gun shots and explosions. He watched Gokudera move carefully towards a large crate and size it up. The seventeen year old motioned the swordsman over then pointed at the crate. Yamamoto stood by Gokudera, looked at the crate then his sword, and struck it near the top ever so gently so that there would be no chance of it collapsing on them. He smiled his typical smile and received a grunt from Gokudera.

The crate was large—taller than either of the two boys, and wider than the two of them combined—but Gokudera jumped, grabbed the opening, and swung himself up. Yamamoto did the same, but with more ease. They peered into the crate and found an assortment of guns and ammo. At the same time, the boys looked up with alarm. Ammunition? That's dangerous to have lying around in a warehouse full of armed patrolmen and mafia members breaking into it. Now they were faced with a decision—run while they can and warn the Tenth about this, or rid the warehouse of guards risking their lives. Unsurprisingly, both boys chose different plans. It's not hard to determine who chose what, because Gokudera obviously opted for killing and Yamamoto for safety. Gokudera suggested splitting, but Yamamoto quickly dismissed any thought of that. "If we die, we die together. I'm not going to leave you and save myself."

"Shut up, idiot. You sound ridiculous. We're not married."

"But we're friends. Friends don't let friends die."

"Sure."

Gokudera jumped from the crate and landed casually on both feet. Yamamoto gritted his teeth and followed. More shots rang out. "Make your decision, idiot."

"I'll follow you, Gokudera, but I really think we should play it safe."

The swordsman might as well have said, "Let's go kill". Gokudera nodded, satisfied, and took off in the direction of the shots once again. Yamamoto sighed and followed his reckless friend once more. "I really wish you wouldn't head straight for the bullets."

"Who cares what I do?"

"Me."

Gokudera brushed that off and continued in the direction of trouble. He couldn't honestly say he didn't know why Yamamoto cared; he just wished he cared _less._ Gokudera Hayato was not used to someone having his back, and certainly wasn't used to someone telling him to be careful and caring about him. _Friend_ was still a slightly foreign word to him; and _family_ even more foreign.

Shots were fired. Again, just near misses. This time, however, Yamamoto's arm was grazed by a bullet. He stopped behind a large crate and gripped his shoulder tightly. His typical smile was completely wiped off his face and was replaced by a grimace.

Gokudera ducked behind the crate with Yamamoto, hiding from fire and hoping the guards wouldn't hit the crate and blow them all to smithereens. He moved Yamamoto's hand from his shoulder and looked closely at the wound. It wasn't too deep, but Gokudera would bet his life it hurt like hell. He took a cloth from inside his shirt and wrapped it around the Rain guardian's arm. Yamamoto winced like crazy from the pain; Gokudera's hands were by no means gentle. But when it was done, he thanked his friend and apologized for holding him back.

Gokudera stood up and said nothing. He took his gun back out and held a few dynamite sticks in the opposite hand. "It's about to get loud."

The smile reappeared on Yamamoto's face as Gokudera said this. The bomber jumped from behind the crate and flung the sticks as hard as he could, in as many directions as he could without nearing the crates. These were the only bombs he'd allow himself to use because he realized how stupid it was to even consider using them with the amount of ammunition in here. He at least managed to account for that when he threw them.

This time, he heard yells and screams. A smug smile appeared on his face as he found out his effort was rewarded. Five men showed up in front of him, and three behind. Yamamoto stood up and walked towards Gokudera, keeping an eye on the three men behind the bomber. "Would it do any good to tell you to be careful?" Yamamoto questioned softly with a smile.

"Not at all,"

Yamamoto chuckled and drew his sword. "How about 'just don't get yourself killed'?"

"Maybe," Now even Gokudera was smirking. This is what he loved. He loved the thrill of an outnumbered fight. Loved the danger he was put in where he had to make split second decisions or else be killed. This is what he lived for.

The Storm guardian analyzed the playing field. Crates were piled up for as long as he could see. This was a big warehouse. Chances are, if he loses Yamamoto he won't find him again. But fighting back to back wouldn't help either of them. _Great. Its just one fork in the road after another._

Now who would make the first move?

Yamamoto always preferred the offensive.

He advanced quickly at the three men and with a quick swipe of his sword, one was down. The other two had their guns out and were shooting at him ceaselessly. Yamamoto thanked Reborn in his mind for his new technique, and blocked every shot as he struck at them. One took out his knife and stopped Yamamoto's sword just as he was about to be sliced. Yamamoto smiled and welcomed his quick thinking. He knocked the gun out of the other mans hand with his sword and kicked him hard in the stomach. The man went tumbling backward and hit his head on the corner of a nearby crate. Two down; one to go.

Meanwhile, Gokudera locked his eyes on the corner of the warehouse not far behind him. The men shot at him, giving him a chance to move towards it. There were hardly any crates back here and Gokudera was sure a few bombs would be harmless.

Once he was a few yards from the concrete wall, he launched several bombs at the men. Clearly they were unawares as the successful bomber watched two of the men's blood splatter the floor. Smoke filling the air, Gokudera was slightly taken aback that he couldn't see Yamamoto anymore, but he didn't let that distress him too much. After all, he only had one guy trying to kill him, not three.

Yamamoto heard the explosions and spun around to see the smoke. That was just like Gokudera: taking stupid risks. Suddenly, he felt as if something bit him in his shoulder. In a moment, the whole of the pain rushed to him and he dropped his sword, seizing his bullet wound. Without meaning to, he cussed and was unaware of his adversary leveling the gun up to his head. He realized this, and looked at him with frozen terror and forgot the pain immediately. His eyes widened; the gun was no more than two feet from his temple. His mind was blank.

The smoke was just barely clearing, but Gokudera could make out two figures: one holding his arm and standing completely still; and one was pointing his arm out towards the other's head. It didn't take the guardian long to process what was happening and which of the two men Yamamoto was._ Shit._

Gokudera shot at a man, hitting him high in the chest. He then scooped up the fallen man's gun, aimed both at the only man in sight (which worried him) and heard a gun shot. He stood frozen for a moment, remembering Yamamoto's predicament, and was almost relieved when he felt a sharp pain high on his arm, near the elbow. He almost wanted to smile, despite the pain. The gun from that hand crashed to the floor and he let his arm hang useless at his side. _Ah, another fork in the road. Should I shoot the man I'm aiming at and get shot from the guy behind me? Or should I shoot the guy behind me and get shot by the guy in front of me? Or maybe I should shoot the guy holding Yamamoto at gunpoint and get shot by both of these guys? Either way, I get shot._ Then he laughed to himself_, or why don't I stand here like an idiot trying to make my decision and get shot for no reason?_

Having made up his mind, he narrowed his eyes. The Storm guardian fired his gun, hitting the man in front of him before taking off as fast as he could toward Yamamoto's opponent. He aimed and fired, to find there were no bullets left in his gun. He almost laughed at this. Making speedy rearrangements to the plan in his head, he dove for Yamamoto. The two of them slid on the ground, "Yamamoto, get up and run!"

With a little hesitation, the swordsman jumped up and ran towards a large piling of crates. His eyes locked on one of the fallen enemy and his gun just inches from his hand. _I hate guns, but this is a lot closer than my sword._

The man, who had previously been aiming at Yamamoto, now aimed and fired at Gokudera. He was hit low in his ribs and released four dynamite sticks as he fell to the ground. Two went the way of the further man and Gokudera thought he saw them miss. The other two went to the man who had just shot him, and the bomber already knew the consequences.

The next few things happened faster than either of the teens could blink. First, the bombs hit the man directly and blood went flying in all directions. Next, a nearby crate set aflame and blew up. Gokudera was struck by the crate's hefty explosion and barely managed to cover his face before debris flew at him, thrusting him backward.

Yamamoto watched in horror as his friend went down. Not losing consciousness of the other man, however, he ran for the targeted gun and quickly shot it as he remembered Gokudera teaching him. He had to fire twice before the man dropped, but at that moment he didn't care as long as he was killed.

He whirled around and ran to his fallen comrade. Gokudera was lying on his stomach, clutching at his side. His hair was wildly tossed about him, his eyes were shut tight. Yamamoto instantly noticed the blood soaking up on Gokudera's white dress shirt, and the blood running from various slices on his hands and face and even neck.

"Gokudera! Gokudera are you alright?" Yamamoto was frantic. He knelt down by his friend and took off his jacket, placing it where Gokudera's hands were pushing down on his side. The swordsman gently took hold of Gokudera's hand to make room for his jacket. He gulped as he saw how much blood was on those hands. "You'll be alright, okay? I'll get you back…I'll get you help."

Yamamoto's heart wrenched at the sight of Gokudera's face; so full of pain, and all because of him. Gokudera groaned slightly as Yamamoto gently turned him over and gathered him into his arms. Yamamoto pulled his friend onto his back and ran, paying careful attention to how much he moved Gokudera, as fast as he could to the exit. Where was it again?

Yamamoto heard more gunshots behind him—more men were coming. The Rain didn't have time to think. He chose a direction and bolted, praying it was the direction of where they came in. He came to a wall with no doors.

Yamamoto twisted his head around to see two men fast approaching and bolted in another direction. This was most definitely not what he needed right now; every minute counted.

"Let me—"

Yamamoto's steps faltered for a second, "What, Gokudera?"

"Let me…bomb…"

"Are you out of your mind?" Yamamoto could not believe his ears. On second thought, this was Gokudera; so yes, he could. But he was not about to let Gokudera injure himself further by fighting even more.

"Stop,"

He stopped. He didn't know why, but he listened.

Gokudera stuck a stick of dynamite in front of Yamamoto's face and it was already lit. "Throw it."

Yamamoto took it quickly but unwillingly. _Should I aim for the men? Or should I make sure this place is shut-down, as I'm sure Gokudera would do? A fork in the road, I have to decide quickly. _Holding Gokudera tighter, he threw the bomb as if he were pitching and watched it soar. It landed a few yards in front of the men, but that wasn't what he was aiming for. A nearby crate caught on fire, then another. All down the line, crates were catching fire and one by one were exploding. "Nice throw, baseball nut."

Yamamoto was not about to lose his chance to escape. Amidst the yelling of the guards and the explosions of the weaponry, he ran along the walls of the warehouse until he came to a door. By now, there was an orange glow to the warehouse and he was starting to breathe in smoke. He threw open the door and sprinted down the eight blocks to their car.

Laying Gokudera across the backseats, Yamamoto noticed he had lost consciousness. He bit his lip and jumped into the front seat. As the engine roared to life, he whipped out his cell phone and speed-dialed Tsuna.

"Yamamoto?"

"Tsuna," he said quickly, "Have the medical team ready, please."

"Are you okay?" Tsuna's voice was alarmed, sensing Yamamoto's urgency.

"I'm fine,"

There was a pause, "Gokudera-kun?"

"Please be ready," Yamamoto hung up.

He drove as quickly as he could, avoiding main streets full of police and pedestrians. Coming up to headquarters, he hit 90 mph. All the while, he looked in his mirror to check on Gokudera. Satisfied that he was still breathing, he sped up and skidded to a stop in front of the building. Tsuna was waiting.

Yamamoto jumped out of the car and yelled that he was in the back. The medical team gently removed the fallen guardian from the back seat. Yamamoto looked on helplessly and Tsuna's worry was clearly displayed on his face. "What happened?"

"He saved me."

Tsuna took a moment to respond, "And your arm?"

Yamamoto looked down, remembering his own wounds. He had been to numb with fear to feel it, but now he placed his hand gently over the deeper of the twp wounds. "I got shot."

Tsuna led Yamamoto to the infirmary and got him checked out. They had to remove the bullet from his arm and then bandaged it up. Hours had gone by.

By the time they were let in to see Gokudera, Yamamoto was bandaged and clean. He had put on his usual jeans and a t-shirt and was ready to spend as long as he needed waiting for Gokudera to wake up. Hours having passed, however, Gokudera was already awake. Yamamoto felt lighter as he walked in the white room and saw Gokudera's green eyes focus on him.

The Rain put a smile on and walked into the room, "How are you doing, Gokudera?"

Gokudera grunted, "Fine, I guess."

Yamamoto looked at his friend. His lower torso was bandaged and he had gauze on his right cheek and select spots on his neck. His smile faded and he stood there in silence for a few moments.

"Yamamoto?"

He was startled; Gokudera never called him by his name, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

This startled him even more. Never had he been asked this by the bomber. When did he start showing that he cared?

Gokudera noticed the surprise in those familiar brown eyes and asked, "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine…my arm doesn't hurt as badly anymore,"

Gokudera nodded, satisfied. As he expected, Yamamoto asked, "How bad is it?"

"I don't know, can't be that bad."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well the nurse was curious why the hell I was already awake, so I guess I'm healing faster than expected. They gave me some morphine so I can't really feel it."

"What about the cuts on your neck?"

"Not deep enough to do any real damage,"

Yamamoto sighed with relief. But he had one more question…

"Why did you save me?"

Gokudera sighed. He knew this question would come. He was trying to come up with ways how to answer it before the idiot walked in. He hadn't come up with anything, so he simply said, "Friends don't let friends die."

Yamamoto smiled at the familiar words. He knew there was probably some deeper reason to why Gokudera saved him, but he didn't press. Right now, he was just happy his friend was alive and they were both recovering. Gokudera was happy about the same things, but he was also happy he managed to pick the right path at every fork in the road.


End file.
